Published by: WOLF RUDEL
© 2025 | Santi Permana Rahayu
All rights reserved
Contact: s.rahayu@wolfrudel.com
LinkedIn: Wolf Rudel Media
Website: www.wolfrudel.framer.media
Cover photo by:
Michael Fineberg
Dusky Nembrotha Nudibranch (Nembrotha kubaryana)
“When there is a will, there is a wave.” — Marisa Drew
This quote struck a deep chord with me when I heard it from Marisa Drew, Chief Sustainability Officer at Standard Chartered, during her talk at the 3rd United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC3) in Nice, France. It perfectly captured the spirit of the event — a place where determination meets action, and where collective will becomes a powerful wave for change.
As a passionate ocean advocate, stepping into this global gathering felt like entering a kind of Disneyland — not because of fantasy, but because of the abundance of hope, innovation, and shared purpose. Surrounded by conservationists, environmentalists, climate professionals, and corporate leaders, I felt the pulse of a global community united in their commitment to protect the ocean.
The energy was infectious, the conversations inspiring, and the sense of collaboration stronger than ever. Being there reminded me that protecting the ocean is not a solitary journey — it’s a shared mission. Through diverse approaches and possibilities, we are all part of the wave.
In this second issue of Pariveśa, I hope to carry forward that spirit — celebrating the beauty of the ocean realm and the wide range of conservation efforts, both marine and terrestrial. May these stories inspire you, as they did me, to take part in protecting our planet — one wave at a time.
Sponsored
All the best,
Santi Rahayu Founder & Creative Director
Thank you for the great collaboration and support:
Sheherazade Jayadi, Clara Barth, Michael Fineberg, Yeong Im, Carmen Chan, Andrea Cayuela, David Metcalf, Chloe Evans, Leon Boey, Weilee Yap, and Anna-Lena Dauber.
And special thanks to Michelle Li from Clever Carbon for the endless empowerment, Doro Dähn, and Sandra Assiego.
© David Metcalf
Dayak Tribe in Kalimantan, Indonesia
by: Tashya Hampton | @applbm
Salomé tordjman | @salommmm
“Get uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be buying a boat without a clue what you’re doing; it can be giving your phone number to a cute guy or singing in public. The more it makes you afraid, the better the excuses you’ll find not to do it. Do it anyway. That’s how you feel alive.”
“Beneath different skies, we meet the same sea — a reminder that no matter how far apart we are, the ocean carries a part of us all.”
This quote perfectly illustrates how Clara and I first met. We both volunteered for a massive beach cleanup, supporting Sungai Watch in removing rubbish from the shorelines at Jimbaran Beach, Bali, Indonesia.
It wasn’t just her passion for marine ecosystems and ocean protection that made me admire her — her sailing skills and bravery in navigating across countries, from Tahiti to Marseille and islands were truly fascinating! She even inspired me to join her one day.
Let’s dive into the story of her deep connection with the ocean!
Please tell me about yourself and where you are originally from.
I am from Marseille, France. I grew up in the Mediterranean, always loved the sea and its creatures. I grew up in a city. So I didn’t really know how to sail and definitely not how to fix things (even put a frame on a wall).
Your profession?
I have a business degree. I do strategy and communication for non-profits or purpose-led businesses, mostly ocean conservation, but not only. At the moment, I am freelancing, and my last client was a sustainable housing company. Before that, I worked in coral reef restoration and marine protected areas.
How long have you been in Indonesia, and what are your favourite spots?
6 months. I loved the remote islands of Misool, Batanta in Raja Ampat. Incredible scenery and crazy marine life. There’s even a place with a stingless jellyfish lake! I also loved surfing empty waves out there, but I’m not telling where it is ;)
Could you explain more about “The Cool Life”?
We are girls tripping on a sailboat, trying to figure out how to keep the vibe and the planet cool.
For 3 years, we will sail the world on Venture, Clara’s boat, to imagine a new world where we would feel truly alive in a society that does not warm the planet nor destroy its biodiversity. During the trip, we will meet people who already live the Cool Life. They are deeply connected to their environment, plants and animals, and they have so much fun in their lives. Also, we will spend long sailing hours reading what wise men and women wrote about economics, urbanism, philosophy,
energy, food systems, etc. In the end, we want to imagine how we can bring the Cool Life back into town, into the Western world we come from.
It’s everything to me. I’ve tried to live out of the coast before, and I was miserable. I need to be around the water, in the water, to feel alive. Ocean creatures are absolutely fascinating to me. We know so little about this world that every time I put a mask on, I feel like I’m on a different planet where animals of many colours and shapes levitate, where the current creates a constant wind on the algae. I used to watch The Little Mermaid as a kid, and I think Ariel was super dumb for wanting to leave this world.
I feel a lot better on a surfboard or sailing offshore with no land in sight than inside a forest. I’ll never get tired of the shades of blue.
Who introduced you to sailing, and how long have you been doing it?
I learnt as part of being in the sailing team in college. To be honest, it was more about partying than sailing. But still, I learnt the basics. Then I stopped sailing for 6 years before I bought the boat. Almost everything I know I learnt on my own boat, cruising in French Polynesia. Some by myself, but mostly through the people who would come on board and teach me. The deal was: you come here for free holidays in French Polynesia, and in exchange, you teach me. I’ve had many teachers and still do.
Please tell us about your sailing journey, both inside and outside Indonesia.
I’ve started in Moorea. I bought the boat and lived on it for 2 years, learning and doing small sails at first. I never felt really ready to leave French Polynesia, but I recruited a crew and we headed west, to Australia. It took us 6 months to get there, and we stopped in the Cook Islands, Samoa, Tonga, Fiji, Vanuatu, and New Caledonia. It was absolutely epic. I swam with a whale, surfed the best waves in the world, saw schools of manta rays, met insane people, and different cultures. I could write a book about it. Then, everybody came out. I stayed in Australia for almost a year before heading to Indonesia with a different crew. On the way, we had many issues, and it took us a good 4-5 months to get to Indonesia, in Tual. Then we went up the coast of West Papua, Misool and Raja Ampat. Currently, I’m in Halmahera, ready to sail south, to Lombok most likely.
“When I’m sailing, I’m in survival mode; I have to think about everything all the time. It’s pretty stressful; my whole being is focused. But when I have the sunrise shift (we take shifts with the crew), I make myself a hot tea, turn on the sat phone and write about the previous day. It’s my favourite moment.”
What has been your most unforgettable moment while sailing?
Happy moment: So many. I like both hardships and chill. I loved the sailing part of our trip from Tahiti to Australia. Being offshore for days in a row, watching the ocean, letting your thoughts create this imaginary world. Sometimes stuff breaks at night, rough seas, sometimes just pure bliss in a flat sea and beautiful waves ahead.
Terrible moment: We hit a whale, and she snapped the keel. Pretty traumatic, first because of the guilt and also because we almost s;nk, there were only two on board. After that, we spent 2 months in a boatyard working every day to fix it. It was not fun.
Could you give us some tips about what we should prepare before sailing, and what we should do when the weather is, you know… “not so friendly”?
Take lessons! Or get a small cheap boat and do some coastal sailing. Honestly, the thrill of sailing when you don’t know much about what you’re doing is quite unique.
And in bad weather, it’s hard to sum it up. In my head, I always have plan A, B, C, D and E for each situation. It’s a lot of mental load, but necessary. Hard to improvise with a hole in your hull if you’ve never thought about it.
What is your favourite marine animal?
Recently, I travelled to Tasmania and surfed with seals. I really like them, super playful.
During your journey, have you ever witnessed the impact of the climate crisis on the ocean and its ecosystem? If so, please tell us about it.
I’ve been blessed to go to places with not much
direct impact and great local ownership and management of their ecosystems.
But in spite of it, I did see coral bleaching events. There was one in Indonesia this year, but not the year of our crossing. We can only see the effects of the previous ones: lots of dead corals.
We’ve heard the locals complaining about huge foreign vessels fishing on the border of international waters. Definitely saw some overfished areas. Indonesia has been very different from other places with so much trash going into the water, yet super healthy corals, but less fish.
I’m no scientist, and these places are so different that it is hard sometimes to say what’s normal and what should be different.
From your standpoint, what should we do to mitigate climate change?
First, let’s recall that climate change is one problem and the biodiversity crisis another. We need to tackle both.
I would implement an economic theory called « degrowth » it’s the idea to stop using economic growth as a compass for economic welfare and start reorganising our economy so it respects the limits of our planet (doughnut theory) and is sustainable long term. Basically, it includes a drastic stop on consumption, an end to useless companies making useless goods, a new financial system, new values, and more local systems. It’s very elaborate. A lot of economists preach this now.
I love surfing. It’s my passion in life, a lot more than sailing, to be honest. Sailing is just a way to get to the spots without using a plane (and emitting a lot of carbon).
I also love writing, I’ve picked up the ukulele recently, I’m a dive instructor, love reading and thinking about new ways to live. I’ve got many hobbies.
“Sailing is just a way to get to the spots without using a plane (and emitting a lot of carbon).”
What’s your favourite thing to do when you’re on the boat? Reading a book or something?
Watching the horizon and the ocean. I do that for hours, seriously.
Do you have a morning routine while sailing? If so, please tell us about it.
Not while sailing. When I’m sailing, I’m in survival mode; I have to think about everything all the time. It’s pretty stressful; my whole being is focused. But when I have the sunrise shift (we take shifts with the crew), I make myself a hot tea, turn on the sat phone and write about the previous day. It’s my favourite moment.
When we’re at anchor, I usually wake up around 6 AM, do some exercise, meditate and journal a bit. Meditation keeps me sane.
What message would you like to share with the world?
1// Get uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be buying a boat without a clue what you’re doing; it can be giving your phone number to a cute guy or singing in public. The more it makes you afraid, the better the excuses you’ll find not to do it. Do it anyway. That’s how you feel alive.
2// Love is the only reality. I’ve read a lot of philosophy, spiritual texts in the past 2 years, and so far, the only thing that seems real in this world is love itself. It’s the most important. Love of the people, the land, the animals, the wind. It’s the only reality.
3// Western civilisation is responsible for the environmental crisis, especially the rich people there.
CO-EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR AT PROGRES
RE.GENERATION FUTURE
OF
Sharing thoughts and a climate journey with Shera during the interview was both fascinating and uplifting. I deeply admire her dedication to preserving nature and biodiversity—along with her unwavering love and concern for the local community. Her care goes beyond the surface, reflecting a profound understanding of the community’s needs on a personal level. If I could rate her dedication to conservation and community support, it would be 10 stars out of 5 — whilst her loyalty is tremendously top notch.
As the Co-Executive Director of PROGRES, a leading Indonesian NGO that empowers local leadership in protecting endemic wildlife, Shera plays a pivotal role in conservation efforts. She is also part of the 2024 Re.Generation Programme cohort. Re.Generation Programme is built and launched by the Prince Albert II of Monaco Foundation to nurture future environmental leaders by developing their skills, increasing their visibility, and connecting them through a global network.
Additionally, she was supported by the Re.Generation Programme to participate in ChangeNOW — the largest exhibitions that showcase and foster im-
pactful solutions to address planetary challenges. She joined the panel of The Future of Leadership: Women Paving the Way for Long-Term Change, on the first day, sharing about her leadership journey as a woman, and also the “Protect, Preserve, Act” panel, which closed the final day of ChangeNOW and delivering an influential reminder of the importance of collective action to protect the planet. She shared her experience in conserving endangered species in Sulawesi, nurturing the relationship between humans and nature, and empowering local communities.
Let’s get to know her from the interview below:
Could you share a bit about yourself and how you began your journey in conservation?
As far as I can remember, I want to always work for the forest. We helped our parents a lot on the farm, passing through and quite close to the tropical rainforest. There were times we were poor, but being outdoors helped. One of my earliest recollections is seeing my mother on her motorcycle in front of our house. From that, I learned that a woman can be strong.
and
That childhood relationship shaped me in a way that made me want to work for nature. I care deeply about nature, and also about justice. Back then, I didn’t fully understand what justice meant—I only knew what it felt like to be bullied and discriminated just because we were poor. Because being outdoors helped, I just wanted to work in the forest and people. And that was the beginning of my 12year journey working in conservation.
How do you balance your academic activities with leading this NGO?
I’ve tried really hard. It’s not always easy, especially because my academic research and my NGO work are quite different—and often based in different locations.
Each place and each role requires different strategies. In conservation, for me, it’s all about progress that is grounded in values and purpose. My moral compass guides everything I do. I live by values like compassion and integrity, and my mission is to pursue justice—for both people and nature. I care deeply about humanity, about planet Earth, and about justice for all.
I want to decolonize conservation and redefine it on our own terms—based on the voices and aspirations of Indonesians. I’ve spent my younger years saving money just to visit places like Sumatra, Kalimantan, and Sulawesi to be close to nature and communities.
Personally, I don’t want fame or to go viral. I value solitude and quiet leadership—the kind that leads by example, not by spotlight.
I’m also proud to be involved with the IUCN Indonesian Species Specialist Group. We focus on empowering Indonesian leadership in species conservation. For me, it’s about shifting power— changing how conservation is done. While we need to rethink the global conservation system and decolonize it, I also believe in working with the Global North. There are many strong allies there, and real change comes from building equal, respectful collaborations.
How did you come up with the name PROGRES? What is the philosophical meaning behind it, and how does it connect with your vision?
The name PROGRES is inspired by the word “progress,” but not in the narrow, linear sense. It reflects a deeper belief in social progress—rooted in trust, community, and equity. For me, it starts with trusting people. I don’t wait for someone to earn my trust—I offer it freely, because I believe in the goodness within people until they give me a reason not to.
PROGRES is also grounded in a different relationship with nature. We don’t see nature as something to manage or control—we are nature. This perspective often gets overlooked in traditional, top-down conservation models, especially those shaped by Western science. But our vision is different. It’s about centring people, recognizing diverse worldviews, and valuing knowledge systems that have always existed outside the mainstream.
So PROGRES is more than a name—it’s a call to reimagine conservation as people-centred, morally grounded, and inclusive of both scientific and indigenous ways of knowing. It’s about reclaiming voices, shifting power, and building a future where progress means justice, connection, and co-existence.
How do you see yourself as a conservationist?
Well, I prefer to be known as Shera — a human being, rather than calling myself as a conservationist.
Can you tell us more about the current state of conservation in Sulawesi?
It’s vulnerable. Don’t get me wrong—there are efforts, but many endangered and often overlooked species still receive little attention. These include the cuscus, various bat species, fish in Lake Poso, and several types of turtles.
I still believe conservation is important. The issue arises when we think there’s only one species worth saving, treating it as the only valuable asset. But I believe it’s deeper than that. I’m drawn to these kinds of philosophical reflections—sometimes, we
don’t need a specific reason to justify the existence of other beings. They simply have a right to be here, just like we do. No reason needed.
Could you tell us about the uniqueness of Sulawesi’s species diversity?
Indonesia is a heaven.
How do you envision your concession area in the next five years?
I envision wild forests, clear lake waters, and thriving natural landscapes in Sulawesi—where nature flourishes and society prospers.
What are your hopes for environmental protection efforts in Indonesia?
“Work with full love and a critical mind, and a heart full of compassion.”
Lastly, what message would you like to share with the world?
Believe in the goodness of the people.
“I was deeply touched when I heard Atom — one of the PROGRES team members — say to me, “I never thought anyone would care about me.” And every time the youth we’ve nurtured share their emotions and personal stories with me, expressing how much our support has meant to them, I’m reminded of the profound impact of simply caring.”
“I believe that combining tourism with meaningful environmental advocacy requires both a thoughtful approach and innovative thinking that balances visitor experience with true impact.”
The first time I heard Chloe’s story of making a big impact for wildlife was at the Girls Be Change Virtual Campfire in March 2025.
Her journey, leading bold efforts to preserve nature and wildlife through Wilde Tracks, while also making a significant humanitarian impact in South Africa despite her background in a non-climate science field—ignited a spark in me.
Since then, I’ve felt deeply inspired by her movement. It has fueled my determination to be bolder and to focus on pursuing my dreams while channelling my passion for environmental protection.
Let’s dive into her story and Wilde Tracks!
How do you define your organization’s mission regarding global Ecosystem Preservation?
Through our ‘’travel with a purpose’’ model, Wilde Tracks contributes to global ecosystem preservation. By partnering directly with private reserves, communities, and regional conservation authorities of the countries we operate in, we are promoting a holistic approach which enhances biodiversity conservation in underfunded areas while also empowering local people to become active stewards of their natural heritage through targeted education programmes. Our model invites travellers to do far more than simply observe wildlife. They directly fund ranger patrols, support veterinary interventions, and participate in habitat restoration, effectively turning each trip into a direct investment in African and worldwide ecosystems. We work hard to safeguard threatened species and therefore stabilize critical ecosystems, and at the same time, provide sustainable economic opportunities for communities living alongside wildlife.
What is your vision for Wilde Tracks in the next five to ten years?
My vision for Wilde Tracks over the next five to ten years is to expand our impact while staying true to our core mission.
I see us as going from a young start-up to a well-established organization confidently leading in the sector. I see Wilde Tracks developing deeper partnerships with other relevant conservation organizations across more diverse ecosystems, allowing us to offer transformative journeys in regions facing the same or even worse critical environmental/ biodiversity challenges. Each expansion will follow our proven approach of working closely with local conservation experts and communities to ensure tourism positively impacts conservation efforts and promotes sustainable economic opportunities for communities.
I also envision Wilde Tracks becoming a known knowledge hub where travellers, and the wider public — whether they join our expeditions or not, can access updated information about conservation and be inspired to join the ongoing efforts in the sector.
Technology will play a key role in our evolution too. We’re exploring ways to support the local realities that really need the tools to make a difference in the conservation sector, but are lacking them because of a lack of funds.
Perhaps most importantly, I see Wilde Tracks fostering a growing community of conservation ambassadors – people who, after experiencing our trips, become lifelong advocates for the ecosystems and communities they’ve visited. This multiplier effect is where I believe our greatest potential for impact lies.
Ultimately, my vision isn’t about growing Wilde Tracks as a business, but growing our positive influence in the conservation world.
How do you measure the impact of your program both environmentally and socially?
In the past year alone, Wilde Tracks has protected 38 endangered animals (3 lionesses, 2 lions, 1 cheetah, 1 elephant, 18 white rhinos, 4 black rhinos, 8 Cape buffalo, 1 crocodile) in South Africa, with numbers increasing by mid-April and May
through our upcoming missions. Therefore, we can directly measure our impact when it comes to actual hands-on conservation efforts. Consequently, we can also state that through our practical conservation efforts, we are also impactfully preserving ecosystem balance, as wildlife loss (if not managed) disrupts natural systems. Species diversity protection enhances ecosystem resilience and functionality, with healthy wildlife populations maintaining balanced food webs and habitat preservation benefiting entire ecosystems.
Our work also directly benefits local communities. In fact, poaching not only devastates wildlife but also perpetuates a cycle of poverty and lawlessness in rural communities. Communities adjacent to wildlife-rich areas often experience high unemployment and limited opportunities, making local residents, particularly youth, more susceptible to recruitment by poaching syndicates. The lure of quick financial gain can overshadow the long-term consequences of illegal activities, such as degraded natural resources and reduced tourism income. Even when communities wish to protect wildlife, they often lack the resources or training to do so effectively. Ranger teams frequently operate with inadequate funding, outdated equipment, and insufficient training, leaving them ill-equipped to confront sophisticated poaching networks. As wildlife populations decline, tourism revenues drop further, exacerbating economic hardship and increasing the likelihood that locals become involved in illicit activities. It is in these underserved areas that Wilde Tracks plays a transformative role.
For instance, in Tanzania, Wilde Tracks partners with schools to embed environmental awareness into curricula and works alongside Maasai women’s groups, providing training programs focused on wildlife conservation and sustainable livelihood
strategies. This approach nurtures a deep respect for wildlife and strengthens women’s leadership in community-based conservation.
Currently, we support 110 children through conservation education programmes in the Karatu district and provide capacity building and empowerment initiatives for 50 Maasai women and girls.
Moving forward, we are determined to significantly scale up these programs, touching more lives, expanding our educational outreach and empowerment efforts to more women and girls. These expanded efforts will further enhance wildlife habitats and build stronger local capacities for sustainable, long-term conservation.
Could you tell us the current status of the species there – whether they are endangered, vulnerable, threatened?
Africa’s wildlife in general continues to face escalating threats from poaching, with devastating consequences for both iconic and lesser-known species. The African Wildlife Foundation estimates that around 20,000 elephants are illegally killed each year across the continent for their ivory, a critical danger for these keystone animals. In South Africa alone, the Department of Forestry, Fisheries, and the Environment (DFFE) reported 451 rhinos poached in 2022, illustrating the relentless pressure on even the most protected reserves. According to the IUCN Red List, black rhinos are critically endangered, and Wilde Tracks has already supported the protection of 4 of them. However, this crisis extends well beyond South Africa.
Namibia hosts the largest population of black rhinos in the world. Specifically, Etosha National Park, located in northeast Namibia. However, the poaching rate of this species is extremely high. In addition to that, smaller yet highly trafficked species such as pangolins also remain at severe risk, particularly in Namibia. There are eight subspecies of Pangolin, three of which are critically endangered, and the remaining ones are categorized as either vulnerable or endangered species. This is because, already considered the world’s most trafficked mammals, they are also prime targets of international wildlife crime syndicates. Finally, in Tanzania, ongoing poaching in key reserves like Selous threatens elephants, lions, buffalos, and other vulnerable species.
How do you ensure that tourism activities remain sustainable and do not harm the ecosystems you aim to protect?
Our model is built to prioritize the urgent needs on the ground. Whenever we plan a mission, it is because there is an actual need for intervention. It is never the way around, we do not plan our trips starting from guests’ needs, our focus is on the animals and communities. Therefore, our local partners conduct assessments all year round
in order to understand what are the actual needs we, as Wilde Tracks, can support them with. It is then that we plan the conservation mission and launch our call to action to our audience. We are also sensitive on the type of ‘’hands-on’’ conservation we support and implement. We make sure the veterinary interventions and conservation strategies are really needed and are only done for the species’ well-being and protection. We do not offer ‘’cuddling’’ experiences or the typical volunteering trips where the guests get to touch and interact with the animals in an unnecessary way. We also never work with large groups of tourists because we want the experience to be authentic and also, we do not want to operate in stressful situations for the animals, who are our primary focus. A big part of our mission is also to raise awareness amongst our travellers and make them understand the importance of what we are doing and of doing it in the right way.
Wilde Tracks firmly believes that the biodiversity preservation and community engagement are inextricably linked. By investing in both, you can build the foundations for a future where humans and animals can thrive together. Therefore, recognizing that local people hold the keys to wildlife protection, Wilde Tracks involves them at every level of planning and execution. In Namibia, for example, Wilde Tracks collaborates with indigenous groups such as the San Bushmen, sharing knowledge and resources to safeguard pangolins and rhinos. In Tanzania, we support a community of Maasai women and the youth by embedding conservation education within local school curricula and empowerment workshops at the community level. This way we cultivate environmental awareness, inspire careers in conservation and ecotourism, and ensure the long-term sustainability of local conservation efforts. Ultimately, by integrating hands-on conservation activities, community capacity-building, and ecotourism-based funding, we contribute to a holistic model of development that uplifts both people and the planet.
“ Wilde Tracks firmly believes that the biodiversity preservation and community engagement are inextricably linked. By investing in both, you can build the foundations for a future where humans and animals can thrive together.”
What advice would you give to others who want to combine tourism with meaningful environmental advocacy?
I believe that combining tourism with meaningful environmental advocacy requires both a thoughtful approach and innovative thinking that balances visitor experience with true impact. My advice would be to design experiences that truly connect tourists with the real mission of your trip, the goal should be for them to develop a deeper appreciation and lasting commitment beyond the experience itself. I also think it is really important to educate before, during, and after the trip. Providing context about ecological challenges and conservation efforts, in our case, helps travellers understand their impact and inspires continued advocacy after they return home.
© Michael Fineberg
Peacock Mantis Shrimp (Odontodactylus scyllarus) Males get more vibrantly colourful upon adulthood.
@divingaroundasia
Tools and location: A Canon 5D mark 3 camera with a 100mm f2.8 Canon macro lens in a Meikon housing in Ambon, Maluku, Indonesia.
pre-adult)
Yellow-spotted anemone shrimp (Ancylomenes luteomaculatus), a type of anemone commensal shrimp that cleans up scraps from the anemone, keeping it healthy and itself fed.
(image: left)
Zebra urchin crab (Zebrida adamsii) (image: below)
© Michael Fineberg
Debelius cleaner shrimp (Lysmata debelius), named after one of the most famous underwater photographers and identification book writers out there. Debelius, Coleman and Helmut are legends in this field, and all three have numerous amazing animals named after them.
A young adult Harlequin shrimp (Hymenocera picta). Rather small one, but will grow into a great scourge of seastars soon.
Shaggy / hairy aegires nudibranch (Aegires villosus) is a gorgeous and very wide spread nudibranch, found everywhere in the Indopacific, from Perth, Australia, up to Perhentians, Malaysia, and through Indonesia as well - and yet, they are uncommon and hard to find.
Gardiner’s Philinopsis (Philinopsis Gardiner) looks quite similar the velvet / variable head shield slug (Chelidonura varians), but the shape of their heads and tails are quite different.
Varicose wart slug (Phyllidia varicosa) is one of the most common marine slugs divers start off finding, with one of the ugliest names.
© Michael Fineberg
“Art can make things perceptible that language often fails to express. It lets us step out of rigid structures, hold contradictions, and recognize how constructed our realities are. In a time where clarity and positioning are constantly demanded, art can be a place where complexity is not only tolerated but necessary.”
How would you describe your artistic style and the mediums you most enjoy working with? How does your creative process usually begin — with a concept, a feeling, or something visual?
I work primarily with found materials—objects that already carry traces, stories, or have been discarded. Waste plays a particularly central role. My sculptures, paintings, and photographs all emerge from a direct engagement with what already exists. The physical presence, aesthetic quality, and material logic of each element often guide the process more than any predefined idea.
In my photographic work and the resulting collages, I shift focus toward the everyday—things usually overlooked. Through alienation, framing, or formal abstraction, unexpected aesthetic qualities begin to surface. Often, the process begins with a spontaneous encounter: a found object, a patch of light, a texture. I work without fixed concepts— more like a conversation. The process remains open to deviation and contradiction.
There is no single point of entry. Sometimes it begins with a visual impulse; other times, with an internal movement. I work across disciplines and often loop media into one another—a sculpture might reappear in a photograph, a drawing might inform a spatial intervention. I’m interested in transitional states rather than final forms.
Has your relationship with your work changed over the years? If so, how?
Very much so. I began working intensively around three years ago, and it’s been an immense learning curve. Around that time, I also moved to Berlin, produced hundreds of drawings, visited exhibitions, and immersed myself in artistic thinking and practice. In the beginning, I followed impulse more than intention. I wasn’t concerned with getting things “right” – which, in hindsight, was incredibly liberating.
Over time, I developed my own methods, ways
of reflecting, and a clearer sense of process. These days, I rarely ask whether something “works” – I just do it. I’ve come to trust the act of making more deeply. At the same time, I try to avoid falling into routine. I constantly challenge myself to let go, to question what I’ve already built. I’ve learned to hold both extremes: precision, and the willingness to undo everything if necessary.
Many of the themes I engage with now were already present during my studies, but they’ve deepened through continued practice. Most of what moves the work forward happens in the act itself—through attentive making, repetition, and observation. I’m often surprised by how far one can get simply by trusting that growth will come—through doing, not planning.
What do you hope people feel when they encounter your work?
I hope that viewers enter a space of their own – one I haven’t predefined. I don’t let others dictate what I should create; it would be just as absurd to dictate what they should feel. My work doesn’t offer answers – it poses questions. It invites people to stay with ambiguity.
I don’t believe in art as a statement. Its strength lies in its openness, its layers, its refusal to be reduced. Of course, my work touches on political, ecological, and social issues – but I’m not interested in messaging. Instead, I try to create spaces where different kinds of thinking can emerge.
Art can make things perceptible that language often fails to express. It lets us step out of rigid structures, hold contradictions, and recognize how constructed our realities are. In a time where clarity and positioning are constantly demanded, art can be a place where complexity is not only tolerated but necessary. That, to me, is a deeply political gesture.
“It’s meaningful to feel connected to something, even if that connection isn’t symmetrical. A tree doesn’t have to love me back – but in its complexity, in its silent presence, it can teach me something about thinking beyond myself. That has to do with ethics, with responsibility – and with beauty.”
Do you see your work as a dialogue with nature? If so, what are you hoping to communicate or preserve?
Yes—I would say my entire artistic practice, and to some extent my life, is a dialogue with other beings. Of course, this dialogue is shaped and limited by the culture I grew up in. But for precisely that reason, I believe it’s essential to engage with it consciously.
The term “nature” is problematic, as it suggests separation—as if humans and the so-called natural world existed on different planes. That idea has historically justified exploitation. My work resists that logic, even though I remain entangled in it.
Collecting materials from the street—waste, remains, found objects—is not just an aesthetic act, but a political one. I bring what’s been cast aside back into visibility. I believe the way we relate to the world begins with where we choose to look. Art can’t resolve these contradictions, but it can hold them in focus—and ask us to stay with them a little longer.
Has your perspective on nature changed as you’ve evolved as an artist?
Yes, profoundly. During my studies, I thought I had to let go of my fascination with what I had called “nature” – in order to stay theoretically consistent. I believed distance was necessary for critical thought. Today, I see things differently. I think it’s vital to maintain a sense of wonder, care, and aesthetic resonance – even if these experiences are shaped by projection.
It’s meaningful to feel connected to something, even if that connection isn’t symmetrical. A tree doesn’t have to love me back – but in its complexity, in its silent presence, it can teach me something about thinking beyond myself. That has to do with ethics, with responsibility – and with beauty.
I grew up in a rural environment. My parents and grandparents had a deep sensitivity to animals, plants, the rhythms of the seasons. I carry that with me. When I work today, this connection is always present – sometimes explicitly, sometimes atmospherically. I spent a lot of time as a child on the island of Rügen. The smell of salt, algae, and pine trees is imprinted in me. When I walk along the coast, something opens up. I move with the wind, with the rocks beneath my feet, and my breath follows the waves.
Who is your favourite artist, and what about their work inspires you?
It’s hard for me to name a single artist. I visit museums, galleries, concerts; I read and watch films—my influences are constantly shifting. Sometimes I connect deeply with an artist because I’ve spent time with their work. Other times, it’s because their way of thinking mirrors something in my own.
I’m not drawn to fixed positions or complete worldviews. What inspires me are gestures, decisions, sensitivities. I rarely look at a body of work as a whole; instead, I collect impulses from many places—some artistic, some everyday, some from entirely different disciplines. These impressions overlap and inform one another.
My creative work is shaped by this layering: the personal and the collective, the intimate and the distant. What inspires me most is this interplay— the ongoing weaving of influences that keeps the process alive.
How long does it take to complete a work or a series like “Gestalten”?
Gestalten isn’t a closed series—it’s part of an open, evolving process. Each figure represents a temporary state within a larger transformation. Even once exhibited, they remain changeable. Sometimes they come together in a few weeks; other times, it takes months.
I don’t work toward fixed results, but toward relationships—between objects, meanings, and the systems we often take for granted. The process feels more like a puzzle: each new piece reconfigures the whole. What interests me is the logic that emerges from within the material, not from outside.
These sculptures are living assemblages. They’re never truly finished. They keep returning, dissolving, becoming something else. Like the city they come from, they remain in motion.
“Even without a formal background in marine science, I started experimenting with different structures and coral planting techniques. Eventually, I found a method that worked really well for this region. That’s when I realized we had something scalable, and the project could grow into something much bigger.”
The first time I heard about Livingseas was when I organized a donation event through Sofar Sounds Bali—a global music community—where I raised funds to adopt corals through Livingseas.
Since then, my curiosity about coral reefs has grown, and that experience led me to connect directly with Leon, the founder of Livingseas. We had an in-depth conversation about a potential creative collaboration with his foundation.
I admire Leon’s boldness in transitioning from a career as a computer scientist to becoming a marine scientist, and his determination to make it happen. Today, that dream has led him to run a large NGO in Padangbai, Bali, dedicated to marine conservation. Let’s get to know him!
Could you please introduce yourself and your organization?
I’m Leon Boey, originally from Singapore. Through running a diving company, I eventually found myself in Padangbai, Bali, where I began working on reef restoration in the area.
The Livingseas Foundation was established to address the urgent challenges facing our oceans. From coral reef restoration to reducing ocean waste, the Foundation collaborates with local communities to develop impactful projects aimed at restoring marine biodiversity to its former state.
We focus on three key areas: direct impact through coral reef restoration projects; implementing proper waste management systems in coastal towns; and providing training and education to local youth, empowering them to sustainably manage these initiatives over the long term.
How did you begin your journey in conservation, particularly in marine conservation?
I’ve been diving for almost 20 years, and during that time, I’ve traveled to many places and witnessed firsthand that reefs weren’t getting better on their own. A turning point for me was in 2010,
when I saw the devastating effects of coral bleaching in Phuket. That experience made it clear—I had to do something.
From there, I began traveling to learn more about corals. Even without a formal background in marine science, I started experimenting with different structures and coral planting techniques. Eventually, I found a method that worked really well for this region. That’s when I realized we had something scalable, and the project could grow into something much bigger.
Can you tell us about the programs your organization offers to bring people together and support restoration efforts?
Our model is centered around regenerative tourism—where every visitor who joins our programs contributes directly to rebuilding the reef.
Whether you’re a snorkeler or a diver, anyone can take part and make a tangible impact by helping the reef grow with each visit.
We offer a range of programs for both tourists and locals, from half-day snorkeling experiences to multi-month internships. These opportunities allow people not only to participate, but also to deeply engage with coral restoration efforts and gain hands-on knowledge along the way.
What are the current threats to the marine ecosystem in your conservation area?
Originally, the reef suffered significant damage from harmful fishing practices used by the local community. Although the community has since shifted its focus toward tourism—reducing the pressure from fishing—the reef had already
been severely impacted. The remaining coral rubble, combined with stronger storms and wave action, further degraded what was left.
Today, the main threats come from irresponsible tourism practices. Tourists can unknowingly cause harm by kicking up sand or damaging corals while diving or snorkeling. Additionally, the use of chemical sunscreens on the reef introduces harmful substances into the marine environment, further stressing the ecosystem.
How do you envision the condition of the coastal area in Padang Bai in the next 3 to 5 years compared to the present?
If we continue the work we’re doing, my hope is that the entire 1-kilometer stretch of coastline we’re restoring will be thriving—covered in healthy corals and teeming with marine life.
What are the main challenges in restoring coral reefs there, and how have you addressed them?
The biggest challenge is the general lack of awareness about corals. Many people who haven’t snorkeled or dived simply don’t know what corals are or understand their importance—not just to ocean ecosystems, but also to our daily lives.
To address this, we focus heavily on raising awareness. Our approach isn’t just about preaching to the choir—it’s about attracting tourists who may not be specifically looking for a coral restoration experience, but who want to enjoy the ocean. By engaging them through our programs, they not only contribute directly to reef restoration but also leave with a better understanding of coral ecosystems and why they matter.
What types of marine species can be found in Padang Bai, and which are the most threatened?
There’s a wide variety of marine life in Padang Bai. A long time ago, sharks used to inhabit the reef before it was destroyed. For years, there were no sightings of sharks in the area—until early 2024, when we discovered two baby sharks living at our restoration site. That was a huge moment for us, as it signaled that the ecosystem and food chain are beginning to recover.
In addition to sharks, we now regularly see turtles, barracudas, and many other species making our site their home. The area is becoming rich in biodiversity once again, a sign that our restoration efforts are truly making an impact.
Let’s get personal—coffee with sugar or no sugar?
Coffee, no sugar.
Who is your favourite conservationist, and why?
I’d say Jadav Payeng—the Indian man who single-handedly planted an entire forest. His dedication and long-term vision are incredibly inspiring.
What’s your star sign?
Leo.
What are your hopes concerning the climate crisis we’re currently facing?
To be honest, I’m a bit pessimistic about our chances. That’s why I’ve committed my life to replanting corals. If we don’t start scaling up restoration projects like this to ecosystem-wide levels, we may not be able to save the planet in time.
What’s one simple action we can take in our daily lives to protect the planet?
Plant something. Grow something. Restore something.
Your favorite quote?
They might not care even if they know, but they can’t care if they are unaware.
“The biggest challenge is the general lack of awareness about corals. Many people who haven’t snorkeled or dived simply don’t know what corals are or understand their importance— not just to ocean ecosystems, but also to our daily lives.”
Could you share with us a bit about yourself, your career, and where you are based?
My name is Yeong Im. I love nature and value simplicity and honesty. I speak Korean, Mandarin, and English. Tennis, singing, and dancing are my go-to activities when I’m feeling down. I hope this gives you a glimpse into who I am. Oh, and I’m based in New York City.
As for my academic and professional background, I studied economics in college and simultaneous interpreting in graduate school. After completing my graduate studies in 2013, I worked as a translator and interpreter until 2023, when I decided to launch a sustainable clothing brand, zero o’clock (zerooclock.shop).
How do you enjoy your day-to-day life?
That’s a great question. Enjoying the simple pleasures of daily life isn’t always as effortless
as it sounds. At times, life can feel mundane, stressful, or overwhelming. When that happens, I try to remind myself how lucky I am to simply be alive and conscious. That perspective helps me appreciate the little things—like the morning sunshine, the aroma of coffee, or people passing by on the street. I also make an effort to do something I love every day, so my day isn’t just filled with work and chores.
Could you tell us about Zero O’Clock and the story behind its name?
zero o’clock is a new sustainable clothing brand I launched in November 2024. All the items in our store are made from certified organic or recycled natural fibers, and we maintain minimal inventory to avoid overproduction.
zero o’clock is a values-driven business. Our primary goal is to raise awareness about urgent environmental issues and the impact of consumer choices. We don’t run promotions designed to encourage people to buy more than they need. Instead, we hope to inspire more mindful and responsible shopping habits.
One thing that sets us apart is our commitment to organic and natural fabrics. First, organic farming avoids toxic pesticides and chemicals, which means no chemical pollution in the water or soil—and a healthier working environment for farmers. Second, natural fibers, unlike synthetic ones, don’t release microplastics into the environment when washed or when they decompose.
I named the brand zero o’clock because midnight—zero o’clock—is both an end and a beginning, like a circle. It represents renewal and continuity. I hope zero o’clock can contribute to building a more circular economy.
What inspired you to launch the brand?
I was on the hunt for a t-shirt made from organic cotton or linen, but surprisingly, there weren’t
many options—and the ones I liked were all quite pricey. That’s when I first thought about starting my own sustainable clothing brand. I wanted it to be completely plastic-free—not just the fabrics, but also the labeling and packaging. I also wanted it to be affordable, so more people could make the switch to organic, plastic-free clothing.
Who is your favourite fashion designer?
I don’t really have a favorite—honestly, I don’t know many fashion designers. :)
How would you describe your brand’s vision?
We’re still in the early stages and haven’t yet taken major steps to support the environment, such as engaging in wildlife conservation or reforestation projects. However, I hope that in the near future, we can partner with organizations and communities around the world to tackle some of the most pressing environmental challenges we face today.
In the meantime, we’ll continue to regularly share environmental facts through our social media channels and on our products to raise awareness. While many people are already aware of today’s environmental issues, presenting specific facts and figures helps convey the gravity and urgency of the situation.
Have you faced any challenges while launching Zero O’Clock? If so, how did you overcome them?
The biggest challenge was finding the right manufacturers and suppliers for Zero O’Clock. Our options were further limited by our decision not to use clothing made from recycled plastics or synthetic fibers, as these still release microplastics into the environment—both during washing and as they break down.
Before launching, I faced a dilemma: should I wait until I could source a wider range of re -
cycled natural fabrics, or take the plunge and launch with limited recycled options, allowing the business to gain traction while gradually transitioning? I chose the latter. So, it’s still a work in progress. Our long-term goal is for all our products to be made from recycled natural fibers. We’re also considering adding a vintage category to the store to make our practices even more circular.
“It’s meaningful to feel connected to something, even if that connection isn’t symmetrical. A tree doesn’t have to love me back – but in its complexity, in its silent presence, it can teach me something about thinking beyond myself. That has to do with ethics, with responsibility – and with beauty.”
When it comes to design, what influences your creative process?
Nature, the environment, and things I personally find meaningful in my daily life.
How do you handle production? Do you work with local tailors or garment manufacturers?
We currently work with environmentally conscious manufacturers and suppliers who provide organic and recycled cotton products.
What role does sustainability play in your brand?
Sustainability is our core principle and the driving force behind our product development and business operations.
How do you balance creativity in your designs with market segmentation?
My design philosophy revolves around “Simple. Minimal. Responsible.” — our brand slogan. I aim to use our products to make an environmental statement, share our values, and highlight the beauty of everyday life.
Our target audience includes environmentally conscious individuals as well as those who are still beginning to explore sustainability. I hope they find our messages and artwork both relatable and inspiring.
Where can we find or purchase your products?
You can shop through our website: https://zerooclock.shop. We’re also on Instagram: @zerooclock.shop_0000.
Where do you see your brand in the next five years?
I hope people will see Zero O’Clock as a responsible and trustworthy eco clothing brand. We’re not focused on rapid growth or expansion, but we’re committed to strengthening our skills and impact — both as environmental advocates and as a socially responsible business.
Lastly, do you have a message for the world regarding the current climate?
Climate change is a complex issue that touches many aspects of our lives. But we can all start by making small, manageable changes. For example, reduce food waste by preparing or ordering only what we can consume, use reusable mugs and tumblers instead of disposable cups, and recycle our clothes whenever possible.
It’s also important to note that not all recyclable plastics are actually recycled. So, let’s try to reduce our use of plastics whenever we can — even if avoiding them entirely isn’t always practical.
“I’ve found my purpose at a fascinating intersection: where language meets culture, where sustainability meets local traditions, and where global environmental challenges meet regional solutions.”
I never imagined that my childhood fascination with foreign travellers speaking Spanish in Colombia, my home country, would shape my entire career. There was something magical about watching people from different countries discuss our local food or debate Shakira’s latest songs with the same enthusiasm as my friends and family. Their ability to bridge worlds through language sparked a curiosity about cultures beyond my own that became my professional compass.
My journey has been anything but linear. From marketing sustainable ice cream during a German winter (yes, in the middle of a pandemic!) to working with women’s rights organizations in
Morocco, to helping my family’s 50-year-old manufacturing business in Colombia develop its first brand identity. Each experience taught me that effective communication goes beyond words to understand the cultural context that gives those words meaning.
Today, working with sustainability-focused brands across Southeast Asia from my base in Indonesia, I’ve found my purpose at a fascinating intersection: where language meets culture, where sustainability meets local traditions, and where global environmental challenges meet regional solutions.
My work has revealed a crucial insight: brilliant sustainability solutions often fail to scale globally for two interconnected reasons. First, they get lost in cultural translation. Second, they don’t address the vastly different levels of sustainability awareness people hold. Both dimensions must be addressed simultaneously to drive meaningful action.
Cultural context: How sustainability changes across borders
Through experiences in Latin America, Europe, and Southeast Asia, I’ve seen how sustainability concepts transform when crossing borders:
In Germany, sustainability centres around precision, efficiency, and technical excellence. Environmental messaging emphasizes exact metrics, certified standards, and systematic approaches.
In Indonesia, sustainability connects to community harmony and natural balance. Environmental issues are understood ßthrough relationships between people, communities, and nature.
Collective well-being drives engagement, and traditional wisdom carries significant weight.
In Colombia, sustainability discussions frequently intersect with economic opportunity and social development. Environmental efforts gain traction when they visibly contribute to community prosperity.
These cultural frameworks dramatically shape how sustainability messages are received. Marketing sustainable ice cream in Germany required precise environmental claims with exact percentages and specific certifications. The same product concept in Southeast Asia gained traction through stories of community impact and collective benefits.
Equally important is recognizing that within any culture, people have vastly different relationships with sustainability. Based on hundreds of
conversations across markets, I’ve identified five distinct audience types:
The sustainability champions: Already knowledgeable and committed, they scrutinize claims, question processes, and demand transparency. They need depth over simplicity, authenticity over polish, and specific details about how initiatives work.
The practical environmentalists: They care about environmental issues but prioritize practical considerations like convenience, cost, and immediate benefits. They respond to functional benefits first, with sustainability as a bonus, and clear, no-sacrifice transitions to better choices.
The sustainability-curious: Aware of environmental issues but without strong opinions or established habits. They need simplified concepts, connections to existing values, clear first steps, and storytelling that makes abstract issues concrete.
The sustainability-resistant: Ranging from mildly sceptical to actively resistant, their con-
“ Meeting people where they are – both culturally and in their sustainability journey – allows us to transform abstract global challenges into relevant local opportunities. This isn’t about diluting our message but about translating our purpose into languages that truly speak to diverse hearts and minds.”
cerns may stem from economic priorities, distrust of environmental claims, or opposing cultural values. They respond to co-benefits aligned with their existing values, non-polarizing language, trusted messengers, and no-pressure entry points.
The sustainability-fatigued: They understand and care but feel overwhelmed by dire predictions and seemingly insurmountable challenges. They need tangible progress stories, accessible action paths, and balanced messaging that acknowledges challenges while offering hope.
The magic happens when we adapt sustainability communication to both cultural contexts and individual mindsets simultaneously. For a reusable packaging system across Southeast Asia, we created a matrix approach that transformed a one-size-fits-all campaign into a nuanced strategy addressing both dimensions:
For sustainability champions in Singapore, we focused on technical innovation with detailed impact metrics, while the same audience in Indonesia responded better to community-based environmental initiatives emphasizing collective achievements.
For practical environmentalists in Hong Kong, space optimization solutions for urban living resonated strongly, while the same audience in Indonesia connected with family wellbeing benefits and modern lifestyle integration.
This two-dimensional approach increased overall engagement by over 40% compared to standardized global messaging. More importantly, we saw movement between audience segments, with initially resistant or curious individuals becoming more engaged over time.
My cross-cultural experiences have crystallized into five principles I bring to every sustainability communication project:
Adopt the outsider perspective – Question assumptions about how sustainability messages will be received in different contexts and by different audience types.
Listen before messaging – Understand how sustainability concepts are already understood within each cultural and psychological context.
Connect with existing values – Find where sustainable choices align with values people already hold, rather than trying to create new values.
Create tangible pathways to action – Give people concrete ways to engage that feel meaningful within their cultural context and personal circumstances.
Balance honesty with hope – Acknowledge challenges while showcasing progress and possibilities.
My journey from that curious Colombian child fascinated by travellers to an impact marketer in Indonesia has taught me that the most powerful sustainability communication builds bridges –between cultures, between knowledge levels, and between different psychological relationships with environmental issues.
Ultimately, the goal is to drive action. When our sustainability messages fail to inspire change, it’s often because we’re using a one-size-fits-all approach that resonates with some but alienates many others.
That is why tailoring our communication to both cultural behaviours and personal awareness
levels, we create multiple pathways for engagement rather than a single narrow road.
This dual adaptation approach recognizes that sustainability itself means different things to different people in different places. For some, it’s about preserving traditions; for others, it’s about technological innovation. Some are ready for complex climate science discussions, while others need first steps that connect to their immediate concerns.
Meeting people where they are – both culturally and in their sustainability journey – allows us to transform abstract global challenges into relevant local opportunities. This isn’t about diluting our message but about translating our purpose into languages that truly speak to diverse hearts and minds. And when we do this effectively, we unlock the genuine, sustained action our planet so urgently needs.
© David Metcalf
“I tell the people that come with me to these areas the most important things to bring are an open heart and open mind. To let go of any pre-conceived thoughts or ideas on how things might be and open up to their world, and then that’s when the magic happens. And trust, and respect! A very important one. The indigenous people deeply care for their guests and I am always treated like family when I visit these communities. And they always curious why a crazy white man is so interested in their culture and way of life!”
We’d love to hear about you and your profession as a professional photographer. How did your journey begin? Who has inspired you along the way?
I started taking photographs when I was 10 years old! My parents took me on my very first overseas trip from Wellington in New Zealand where I grew up to Sydney and brought me a simple camera with black and white film in it, so that’s when this started.
Then when I was 21 I left New Zealand and I have never really stopped traveling since, always with camera in hand.
So, it has always been a hobby and passion and then I turned professional when I moved to Bali to live in 2012.
Photographers that have inspired me are - Edward Curtis, he documented indigenous tribes in the U.S. for 50 years, starting in the late 1800’s.
Travelling with basic equipment he produced very beautiful portraits of these vanishing tribes and was a huge inspiration for me. Edward turned down opportunities to make a lot of money as a well known photographer in those days but fol-
lowed his heart and passion because he believed his work was so important. The Native Americans called him the shadow catcher. Ansel Adams was an incredible landscape photographer in America who inspired me, also Sebastiao Salgado who passed away this past week was a big inspiration with his story telling images of marginalised communities. And my good friend Sebastian Belaustugi (Suki) an Argentinian photographer who has documented indigenous cultures around the world for the past 35 years has been a great teacher and an inspiration.
What type of photography do you focus on, and why did you choose that theme?
I consider myself a travel photographer so I am open to photographing everything beautiful and not so beautiful about the planet on which we live, from landscapes and nature, to street photography, wildlife, architecture and cultural photography, environmental. But what really inspires me is photographing and documenting indigenous cultures, people, and their way of life.
I have a deep respect for traditional cultures and their deep connection with the land and their spirituality which they express through rituals and ceremonies. I think that theme just came naturally
to me and I like people so it evolved in that direction. A famous New Zealand photographer Mike Langford said to me one day “photograph what you love” not to impress others and I think this was very good advice, which I have always tried to follow.
I am so excited and motivated to travel and learn and capture this through the camera lens. It really is like a dream for me.
We understand that you’ve been photographing Indigenous peoples in Indonesia. Could you tell us about that journey—when it took place, how it went, and what were the most unforgettable moments you experienced?
This began when I visited a Dayak village in East Kalimantan in 2004. I was fortunate to experience a shaman healing a sick person when I was there and have never forgotten it.
That experience really triggered my curiosity and when I decided to come and live in Bali, the first place I went was North Kalimantan to meet and photograph the Dayak tribes and I have never stopped. I have visited Kalimantan about 40 times and travelled to many parts of that Island and really connected with the people from many different Dayak tribes.
I have always been fascinated by many of the similarities between some of these tribes even though they might live in different countries and not know anything about each other. So, I have also been involved organising many events to bring them together, here in Bali.
Unforgettable moments have been attending traditional death ceremonies such as Tiwah and Ijame in remote villages in Kalimantan, bringing a Dayak dance group to Australia and dancing with an Aboriginal group, hanging out with Dayaks in the original forests, listening to the Sape, (traditional Dayak healing music instrument), where elders and children singing ancient chants to the old growth trees in the forests, bringing a Lakota
flute player and peace ambassador from America to perform with indigenous musicians in Bali and Kalimantan, travelling with Punan elders to their sacred lands by boat, deep into the remote jungle. Honestly, there are so many I could go on and on. Indonesia is such an incredible country.
Could you share your perspective on the diversity and richness of Indonesia’s Indigenous tribes?
I have seen a lot of changes in the 20 years I have lived in Indonesia, some good, some bad. I have been fortunate to travel and photograph many places in Indonesia, including all the main islands and attended many rituals and ceremonies, all different and shaped by history and other influences. I think Indonesia is one of the most culturally diverse countries in the world with 1300 different ethnic groups.
Unfortunately, I think many are misunderstood and misrepresented when it comes to land rights and protecting their cultures and way of life.
Was it challenging to communicate with them as an English speaker, especially while being deep in the jungles of Indonesia?
Not really, as I always use local guides. However, translation can be frustrating at times, especially, when getting into more detailed information about the meanings of rituals, etc.
Quite often the elders don’t speak very good Indonesian, so, it’s necessary to translate from their local language to Indonesian, then english.
What are the must-have items you bring with you when documenting Indigenous communities?
I tell the people that come with me to these areas the most important things to bring are an open heart and open mind. To let go of any pre-conceived thoughts or ideas on how things might be and open up to their world, and then that’s when the magic happens. And trust, and respect! A very important one. The indigenous people deeply care for their guests and I am always treated like family when I visit these communities. And they always curious why a crazy white man is so interested in their culture and way of life!
In terms of physical items, camera with 2- 3 lenses, a drone, and iPhone or GoPro for videoing.
How long do you typically spend traveling from island to island?
My visits to the communities are normally 1-2 weeks, sometimes more.
If you had a magic wand and could make one thing happen, what would it be?
My wish would be for the traditional indigenous communities to be left alone from negative outside interference. To allow them to practice their rituals in land that was protected and managed by them. Studies have proven all over the world time and again that when the indigenous people manage the land themselves, they treat it with love, care and in a sustainable fashion. I have spent many days in the forests with indigenous communities, and observing how they treat nature with love and respect and in perfect harmony, gathering food from the forests, breathing in pure, and clean air. We can learn so much from them and these have been the happiest days of my life.
Lastly, where can we view your work?
www.davidmetcalfphotography.com
Instagram : David Metcalf Photography
Facebook : David Metcalf Photography www.togethernessproject.net
© David Metcalf
“My wish would be for the traditional indigenous communities to be left alone from negative outside interference. To allow them to practice their rituals in land that was protected and managed by them. Studies have proven all over the world time and again that when the indigenous people manage the land themselves, they treat it with love, care and in a sustainable fashion.”
“I’d say we all have the power to create—to build whatever we envision for our lives. I really want to emphasize that we all have the agency to make things happen. But at the same time, you don’t have to push yourself too hard or rush because of FOMO (fear of missing out). Everyone moves at their own pace, so trust your own timing and the process.”
Carmen is one of the amazing women I met along my climate journey. Her passion for building community and creating a safe space for changemakers around the world is truly admirable.
Meeting her in person in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia, inspired me to be bold in embracing my niche—supporting environmental protection efforts through hands-on skills. The diversity of the Changemakers Virtual Event, which she organizes, is equally inspiring and reflects her commitment to inclusive impact.
Let’s dive into her journey through the interview below:
Let’s start from the beginning — can you tell us about yourself and what inspired you to become a changemaker? We’d love to hear about your background and what sparked your journey.
GirlsBeChange is a social business that empowers girls and women to become explorers and change-makers. I started this initiative on International Women’s Day, March 8, 2024, with our very
first event—the Women Change Makers Gathering.
To be honest, when I first started, I didn’t even know where to begin. I was still figuring things out myself and navigating the journey as I went. But hosting that first gathering was a powerful step forward.
After that, I co-hosted the event with Dream Impact, and that experience helped me realize that this— March 8, 2024—was truly the beginning of GirlsBeChange. Of course, you can define a starting point in many ways, but for me, that day marked the real start of our journey.
What’s one lesson you’ve learned the hard way on your journey as a socialpreneur?
Honestly, it’s hard to narrow it down to just one thing—there have been many lessons. One that stands out is the paradox of building a community. Community is all about collective effort and togetherness, right? But at the same time, as the sole founder of GirlsBeChange, a lot of the responsibility, decision-making, and experimentation falls entirely on me.
Another tough lesson has been learning how to manage the blurred line between work and life. Since I’ve integrated so much of my life into my work, there’s no clear boundary—I can’t just switch off and say, “Okay, I’m off now.” Even when I was in Bali, I found myself in meetings, and during a trip to Jakarta, I was hosting a gathering. It’s never quite a clean break.
This kind of lifestyle is deeply integrated—both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I’ve met so many incredible people through GirlsBeChange, and many have become close friends. That’s a gift I’m truly grateful for. But on the other hand, it can take a toll on my mental bandwidth. There are times when I feel overwhelmed and just want a proper day off, but then I catch myself feeling guilty for stepping away—even though no one is pressuring me.
It’s a continuous learning process—how to stay present, how to take care of myself, and how to honour the work without letting it consume me.
Can you tell us about GirlsBeChange and how you measure its impact — both within the community and personally?
That’s a great question, and it’s something I ask myself often. I remember when I was volunteering with a conservation NGO in Vietnam—I won’t name it—but they had a program aimed at empowering female conservationists. I was drawn to it and wanted to get involved. However, when I got there, I learned that the two-year project had already ended because the funding had stopped.
I asked why, since it seemed like such an amazing program. They told me the funding was cut because measuring the program’s impact was very difficult. How do you accurately measure the impact of a two-year project on gender inequality across an entire country’s conservation field? It’s a complex and long-term issue, so the usual metrics or KPIs don’t quite capture the real effect.
That experience taught me an important lesson:
while measuring impact is necessary, it’s also easy to overdo it. If you rely too much on rigid metrics, programs can be prematurely ended just because they don’t hit specific targets quickly enough. So, I try to focus more on quality rather than quantity— listening to feedback and personal stories from individuals involved.
It might sound strange to say, but I also trust my gut feeling. I know it sounds a bit unscientific—like, “Are you seriously measuring impact by gut feeling?”—but there’s some truth to it. When something feels right and you see progress in the right direction, you can sense it. Often, we try to over-measure things, and that can cloud the bigger picture.
So for me, it’s a combination of trusting my intu-
ition and paying close attention to the feedback from the community. That’s how I understand the impact of GirlsBeChange—both personally and within the community.
Who is a female figure who deeply inspires you, and why?
I think it’s actually a mix of people. We’ve talked about this before—maybe in one of our conversations or campfire sessions. Usually, people want to pick just one role model or female figure who inspires them, but for me, it’s never just one person. There’s no perfect individual who embodies everything I want to be. Instead, I’m inspired by a combination of qualities from different women in my life—my mom, my friends like Melanie, Rebecca, and even you. It’s a blend of the strengths and values I see in all these amazing women that inspire me.
When you look at the community now, what part of it fills your heart the most?
When I receive comments like this, it really touches my heart because this was the primary goal when we envisioned what the community would
be about. Honestly, I never imagined exactly how people would connect.
In one interview, I was asked if I could give concrete examples of collaborations between community members. And I had to admit—I didn’t really know. I’m just a catalyst, someone who helps connect people.
To be honest, it goes back to what I said before— the real magic happens when people find each other and build something meaningful, even if I can’t always see or predict how it happens.
What advice would you give to women who want to start something of their own but feel held back?
I’d say we all have the power to create—to build whatever we envision for our lives. I really want to emphasize that we all have the agency to make things happen. But at the same time, you don’t have to push yourself too hard or rush because of FOMO (fear of missing out). Everyone moves at their own pace, so trust your own timing and the process.
Honestly, I’m not the best at advising because my experiences are personal and might be very different from yours. Sometimes I don’t even like taking advice myself.
For example, when I was younger—maybe in my mid-20s—I joined an entrepreneurship incubation program in Hong Kong. We had advisors who checked in on our progress. One advisor told me, “Carmen, you need to focus.” At that time, I was all over the place—I was designing jewellery, experimenting with multimedia, and writing on my blog. He said, “If you do jewellery design, just do jewellery design.”
But honestly, I didn’t like that advice. I didn’t say it out loud, but it didn’t feel right to me.
Are there any upcoming projects or initiatives you’re especially excited about?
Yes! I’m really excited about the Impact Expedition in the Amazon for women explorers, as well as the initiative in the Peruvian Andes. Those projects feel very meaningful to me.
But honestly, I’m also excited about all the com-
munity gatherings. We’re expanding from Hong Kong to other places. For example, I’ll be in Copenhagen soon, and the Women Change Makers gathering is confirmed for July 18th at Goodwin’s office there.
Just for fun: Matcha latte or coffee latte? We had to ask! :p
I’m very indecisive! Yesterday I had a matcha latte, but the day before that... coffee latte. Honestly, why do I have to choose? I never get it when people ask me, “This or that?” Can’t I just have both?
How do you envision the GirlsBeChange community evolving over the next few years?
That’s a good question. I envision the community not only growing in size but also deepening in terms of connection and impact.
It’s definitely a challenge—because as a community grows, it can be harder to maintain depth. Often, when the numbers increase, the sense of closeness or meaningful engagement can start to fade. But I really want to find a way to balance both: to scale thoughtfully, while still nurturing genuine, deep connections among members.
What’s your favorite quote, and how do you feel whenever you read it?
I don’t really have one favorite quote—there are just too many! I actually have little quotes and notes scattered everywhere, even in my car right now. You’d probably think I’m a bit crazy if you saw all the index cards stuck around me. Laughs But honestly, it’s always changing depending on what I’m going through or what I need in that moment.
If I had to randomly pick one right now, I’d say: “The present moment is home.”
I think I wrote that one myself. It’s simple, but it really grounds me.
Another one that’s on my desk right now is:
“Responding to confusion with curiosity and interest.” That one really speaks to me, especially during uncertain times. It reminds me to stay open instead of shutting down.
These quotes are part of a little practice I picked up from a book I love called Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It’s such a quirky, funny, and inspiring book about writing—and life. She suggests carrying index cards with you so that whenever a thought or insight comes up, you can jot it down. I’ve been doing that ever since, and it’s become a really meaningful habit.
“I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the state of the ocean, but to put it simply:
now
more than
ever, we need a narrative shift and a radical systems change. We need to move from an extractive mindset to one of regeneration. We are not above nature—we are nature.”
Could you share a little about yourself and your background?
I’m Weilee (玮莉), born and raised in Singapore, but currently building a life in Europe. I’m a curious seeker who loves adventures, stories, and seeing the world through different lenses—quite literally.
About eight years ago, while completing my Bachelor’s in Sociology, I had the opportunity to join a six-month documentary filmmaking course. Although I grew up watching documentaries, I never imagined becoming a filmmaker—until this course. I filmed and edited my first short docu-
mentary without any prior experience. The film, which featured a migrant worker community in Singapore, was eventually selected for screening at a film festival in the United States—a surreal experience that revealed to me the power of good storytelling. Since then, I’ve been committed to using storytelling as a tool for social change.
Today, I have over seven years of experience working with mission-driven organisations in the social impact and climate action space, creating strategic communications content to increase the visibility of their work and impact. Over the years, I’ve travelled to many countries to create short-form videos on topics such as biogas stoves in rural India,
food waste management in China, coastal waste initiatives in Indonesia, and forest conservation in Singapore.
While videography was the first digital storytelling medium I explored, I’ve since expanded into writing, photography, and graphic design. I completed a journalism internship at an independent Southeast Asian publication and later worked at another outlet, where I wrote long-form stories on human rights and democracy. I also held a full-time Digital Communications role at a global NGO advocating for the press freedom of women and LGBTQ+ journalists.
If it’s not already clear—I truly believe in the power of stories to shift narratives, change systems, and build empathy. I’m deeply committed to using storytelling to drive social change. Today, I continue to seek out opportunities to use my digital storytelling skills to help organisations and causes advance their mission. I’m particularly passionate about contributing to climate efforts and am excited to explore roles at the intersection of storytelling, tech, and systems change.
Speaking of the ocean, tell us about your connection to it. How did it begin?
I didn’t have the luxury of growing up by the
ocean or the opportunity to try out different water activities, but I was always drawn to the beach. As a kid, my dad would take my siblings and me cycling along the beach on weekends. It was a loooong stretch of road, and we’d ride from one end to the other—usually at night when there weren’t many people around. The feeling of cruising along the endless road, with the sea breeze in my face, gave me a special sense of freedom. I think that’s what first established my connection to the beach and ocean— it gives me a sense of freedom and joy.
As an adult, I began to actively seek out opportunities to form a deeper connection with the ocean. My first-ever solo trip was to Bali, with the intention of learning how to surf. A few years later, I finally took a scuba diving course in Cambodia. I didn’t do so well as a diver (and definitely panicked a lot at the start—lol), but I’ll never forget the feeling of being underwater, seeing corals up close for the first time, experiencing a deep calm, and thinking to myself: I could stay here forever.
Somewhere along the way, I also became fascinated by sailing and the idea of moving with the wind. It’s the next ocean endeavour I want to pursue.
Do you see yourself as an ocean advocate?
I don’t necessarily see myself only as an ocean advocate because—as cliché as it may sound—I love nature, and the ocean is just one part of that whole. I consider myself more of a nature advocate at large.
In my professional career, I choose to work with clients and projects focused on social impact and climate action.
In a personal capacity, I regularly attend climate-related events to educate myself, and I volunteer my time and skills for organisations and individuals doing climate-focused work. And of course, there are the everyday actions—
being mindful of my consumption habits (I’ve been off fast fashion for nearly 10 years), using reef-safe products, and so on.
All of these actions matter, but I believe the most important form of advocacy I practice is maintaining a genuine, ongoing relationship with nature herself. It might not be the first thing that comes to mind when people hear the word “advocacy,” but to me, it also looks like: spending uninterrupted time in nature, taking dips in the ocean, admiring the trees (instead of looking down at your phone) as you walk. In doing so, you might even inspire others to slow down and form their own meaningful connections with Her—because at the end of the day, we protect what we love.
In that light, I can say with certainty that I am an advocate. One of my missions with The Friendly Surfers—besides featuring diverse surfers and celebrating a welcoming surf culture—is to inspire more people to try surfing, if they have the access. Surfing is such a profound, beautiful way to connect with Mother Ocean—she humbles you, scares you, yet also gives you joy and ecstasy like no other.
What is your vision for this project in the future?
I envision The Friendly Surfers becoming something like the Humans of New York of the surf world—an online space where people can step into the lives of surfers from all walks of life. Even if they come from vastly different backgrounds, readers might still find threads of connection, shared values, or familiar emotions.
I also see The Friendly Surfers becoming part of a larger movement that advocates for diversity and inclusion in the ocean. The ocean is a place of healing, and I envision a world where everyone feels socially safe and welcomed to enter this powerful space.
I’d love to collaborate with other surf-related projects that have meaningful causes—such as surf therapy programs, environmental initiatives, or community-based ocean access efforts.
And last but certainly not least, I hope The Friendly Surfers gives off such warm, welcoming energy that people who’ve never tried surfing will feel inspired to give it a shot. As I’ve mentioned (or preached—lol), surfing isn’t just a sport; it’s an experience that grounds you, humbles you, and connects you to something greater. I want more people to feel that magic.
As an ocean lover, what are your thoughts on the current state of the ocean, including issues like ocean warming, plastic pollution, and rising sea levels?
I’ll never forget a beach clean-up I joined in Bali. The beach we were assigned to was full of trash and abandoned fishing nets. It was a scorching hot day, and there we were—picking up all kinds of waste and trying to untangle what felt like never-ending nets. When the session ended, I vividly remember looking at the beach and feeling like we had accomplished almost nothing. There was still so much trash left, and we had only managed to clean a tiny stretch of sand. Participating in beach clean-ups really shows you how overwhelming pollution is—even if it’s just a small glimpse of the bigger picture.
I also keep up with a lot of ocean-related news—from coral bleaching to unusual animal behaviors, often linked to rapidly changing, uninhabitable environments. It’s easy to become desensitized and view these things as just “headlines,” until you experience them for yourself. I recently saw an Instagram story from a surfer who came across a dead sea lion washed up on the beach, just as she was heading out to
surf. It made me wonder: will I see something like that one day too?
I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the state of the ocean, but to put it simply: now more than ever, we need a narrative shift and a radical systems change. We need to move from an extractive mindset to one of regeneration. We are not above nature—we are nature.
I once came across a beautiful visual diagram that illustrated this truth so clearly. It stayed with me. We have to start seeing ourselves as part of the natural world, not separate from it. Only then can real change happen.
Start somewhere. Take small actions. Don’t overthink it or get paralyzed by the enormity of the problem. You don’t need to wait until you can grow an entire food garden to feed your family, or have the perfect plan to live a zero-waste lifestyle. Begin with what you have, where you are. Every small step matters—and collectively, those steps add up to meaningful change.
That said, I’m not placing the burden solely on individuals—definitely not. Policy and legislation play a critical role in driving systemic change. If you have the capacity, support advocacy movements. Stand with activists who are fighting boldly. Volunteer with climate action groups. Use your voice to hold governments and corporations accountable, and demand an end to exploitative practices.
And don’t forget: spend time in nature, take care of yourself, be with your loved ones—and breathe. :)
Going back to your surfer documentation project, is there a particularly memorable story you’ve heard from one of them? If so, please share it with us.
The most memorable series (not exactly one story—sorry!) took place in a beach car park in Miyazaki, Japan. I was there on a little surf trip—it was my first time surfing in Japan, and I was really struck by the diversity (and friendliness) of surfers in the line-up. There were many female surfers and quite a few older surfers too, which isn’t something I see often elsewhere.
I knew I had to photograph some Japanese Friendly Surfers, so I headed to the beach car park, where I lingered sheepishly for a while before finally approaching Erika, who was sitting alone and watching the waves. She didn’t speak a word of English and was understandably skeptical at first—but thanks to Google
Translate, that didn’t last long. I asked her about her surf journey, and soon we were passing my phone back and forth, having full-on conversations. I ended up learning quite a bit about her life.
One by one, her surf “family”—friends she had met through surfing, right there in that car park—started approaching us, curious about this foreigner and amused by our heavy reliance on tech. Soon, a small crowd had gathered.
I had an absolute blast. This group of surfers was incredibly friendly and downright hilarious; I was convinced they were the funniest people in the entire country. But beyond the jokes, I also heard some deeply inspiring stories—one had started surfing at the age of 40, and another had quit pachinko (a form of gambling) and completely turned his life around through surfing.
I hung out with them in that car park for over an hour. By the end of it, I no longer felt like a foreigner, despite the language barrier. This group perfectly embodies the spirit I want to celebrate through The Friendly Surfers, and honestly, it still warms my heart just thinking about it. That moment was made possible by surfing—and that’s the kind of magic I want to keep documenting.
In 2025, I’d love to work in the climate tech space—I’m really excited about tech for good. Specifically, I’ve been actively learning about the carbon dioxide removal (CDR) space. It’s a field that—if done right—could play a significant role in addressing the climate crisis.
Personally, I’m also looking forward to becoming a better surfer and spending more time in the ocean. I’d love to get involved in surf- or ocean-related projects, especially those with therapeutic or environmental goals, like surf therapy.
And of course, I hope The Friendly Surfers continues to grow in reach and engagement—eventually forming a global community of surfers who are kind, inclusive, and joyful. That’s the dream.
“Start somewhere. Take small actions. Don’t overthink it or get paralyzed by the enormity of the problem. You don’t need to wait until you can grow an entire food garden to feed your family, or have the perfect plan to live a zero-waste lifestyle. Begin with what you have, where you are. Every small step matters—and collectively, those steps add up to meaningful change.”
